A Faded Image
by Belladonna-Veilsin
Summary: England is acting strange around America, and then he asks America to come stay with him for a while. Alfred is getting increasingly suspicious that Arthur is up to something. But Arthur seems to want to reminisce about Alfred's childhood, and Alfred knows it's important, but he can't remember why. AlfredXArthur UKXUS Mature content.


**AlfredxArthur Plot summary: England is acting strange around America, and then he asks America to come stay with him for a while. Alfred is getting increasingly suspicious that Arthur is up to something. But Arthur seems to want to reminice about Alfred's childhood, and Alfred knows it's important, but he can't remember why.**

(-)

So much time had passed since I had been raised by England, that I could only remember isolated, often fond moments. I remembered the Revolutionary War well enough, but my childhood had begun to blur into a montage of moments.

My former "big brother", Arthur, had been freaking me out lately. Instead of his normal snide remarks or put-downs, he would just frown at me thoughtfully. Instead of rising to the bait when I tried to make him mad, he'd sigh and shake his head. I was getting a little scared with how...not mean he was being.

I mean, after the Revolution we didn't speak to each other for quite a while. And when we did talk after that, it was always business, and there was always a sense of hostility and resentment in Arthur. When he had enough drinks in him, he'd let some barriers down and what he let me see both amused me and made me sad. He seemed to miss me.

But I still thought we had decided to be rivals and wary allies. He hadn't been stepping up to the rivalry, of late. I tried to instigate arguments and fights but he just didn't seem interested. I firmly told myself that I was NOT disappointed that he wasn't fighting with me. I didn't need him. I could fight on my own; I'm the hero of this story!

All these thoughts ran through my head as I filed out of a world conference meeting, feeling satisfied (depressed) that Arthur was showing some submission (disappointment). I walked faster, not wanting these feelings to get any worse, and the more time I spent around his strange self, the worse they became.

"America!" I heard that voice, that well-cultured, snobby voice calling me.

I turned to face Arthur, and he was walking towards me at a brisk pace, evidently trying to catch up with me. "What do you want, England?"

"I-well, I want to ask you something," Arthur said, looking a bit hesitant.

"Then get to the point, dude!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I was wondering if you would like to come stay with me for a few weeks. I thought it might be nice to spend some time together."

My jaw literally dropped and my eyes metaphorically popped at that. "You're joking, right?"

Arthur frowned disapprovingly at my reaction, which was closer to normal than I'd seen from him in a while. "No, I'm quite serious."

"What the hell is up with you lately? You've been acting weird for a while now, and it's freaking me out," I said, my tone accusatory.

Arthur smiled and shook his head. "I've just been thinking about when you were still a cute little colony. Makes me actually miss you, even if you are a brute now."

Something inside me eased as something else grew tighter. He had insulted me, which was reassuring even if it was weak, but he also said he _missed_ me. _That_ made my chest tighten and my stomach go drunk-dancing inside me. Arthur couldn't _miss_ me. He wouldn't miss me if I jumped into a black hole.

"So that's it? You just want me to stay with you and reminisce about the good old days?"

That got me a wider, warmer smile than I had seen in centuries. "Heh, I suppose you could say that." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and looked aside, his expression and posture sheepish.

My stomach started drunk-break-dancing, which is just a horrible idea, and I licked my lips, throat feeling a bit dry as he smiled. "Well, uh, y-I guess I can indulge a sentimental old man. How lonely are you, England, that you want to invite _me_ over?"

He flashed that genuine smile at me again, and I thought that my ribcage had a restless bird in it, rather than a heart. What the hell is wrong with me? More importantly, what was he up to? He had to have more reason than that. There HAD to be some ulterior motive behind this.

"Not lonely, necessarily. But there are a few people at my house that remember you. They want to see how you've grown, first-hand."

I eyed him warily, not responding. He was just acting too suspiciously for this to be a good idea. I should probably tell him I couldn't go. "That'd be nice, England, but I've made plans to wash Lady Liberty's hair the next few weeks. It's a big job, so it takes me a while."

Arthur's smile was wry as he raised one skeptical eyebrow. "Really? You have to wash her hair? You used to be at least a little more creative than _that_. Seems hard to believe, now."

I blushed at him calling me on my lie. I mean, it was a pretty bad lie, but usually Arthur was too polite to point such things out. He'd just accept the excuse and make some polite comment about "maybe another time then".

His commentary seemed pointed though, like there was meaning beyond just criticizing my lying skills. He was up to something with his reminiscing and bringing up the past, I just knew it. I didn't want to go along with his plan, but now I felt like he had challenged me. And I couldn't back down because I was America, and I always had to win.

"Fine. I'll come stay with you. When do you want me there?" I asked, a note of bravado in my simple statement. You're on, Arthur.

(-)

I had forgotten how big Arthur's house was. I mean, I had visited Arthur before now, but that was his house in the city. His house out in the country, where he had raised me for quite a while, was bigger than the city house. And yet, as a maid led me into a sitting room and I took a seat on the pricy, uncomfortable loveseat, I noticed that though it was big, it _felt_ smaller. Did he get more furniture or something? There used to be more room to move around, I swear.

"Hello, America. I'm glad you could make it," Arthur said, walking in and making me jump.

"Oh! Hi, England. Just looking at your décor. Did you get more furniture in here? I swear this room used to be bigger."

Arthur grinned at me, and it was so fond and amused that I had to take an extra few breaths because I felt a little light-headed. I quickly realized that was because a lot of my blood had been abruptly channeled south, and I fought to keep from blushing.

Oh, _Hell_ no! I may have started puberty and awkward erections in this house, but I was done with that! A long time ago! I was a grown country for Liberty's sake!

"Are you alright, America? You look a bit flushed," Arthur said, suddenly beside me. I had a minor heart attack and he put his hand on my forehead. "You are a little warm. I'll help you carry your bags to your room and you can rest for a bit before lunch. I must admit, I hadn't expected you to be on time," he said as he picked up my suitcase.

He started out of the room and I picked up my duffel bag and followed him, carrying the duffel in front of me, rather than behind, and tried to make it look casual. "So what was so funny about my question?" I demanded, trying to start a fight, or at least bicker with him. Something that didn't make me feel so hopelessly lost and confused.

Arthur chuckled. "Oh, well you said the room seemed smaller than you remembered."

"Yeah, so do these hallways," I said testily, gesturing around us. It was all familiar, but it was all strange, too. It all just seemed too damn small!

"America, when you were here last, you were still a cute little colony. Now you're seeing the house from a different perspective. The rooms didn't shrink; you grew."

When he said that and flashed a pleased grin at me over his shoulder, I blushed even more. "Right, that makes sense..." I mumbled. Those smiles were going to kill me. I wasn't used to them anymore. And my pants hadn't felt this tight since I tried to get in the skinny jean trend.

I suddenly realized where he was taking me. We passed the door to his room, and he stopped at the next door. "I didn't think you were actually taking me to _my_ room. I figured you had demolished this room after you got back from the Revolutionary War."

The smile he gave me this time was sadder, a sort of resigned disappointment evident in it. "No, I didn't demolish it." He opened the door and I looked in. And I was shocked by what was there.

"This is just how I left it! It's not dusty or anything! All my toys, my books...gosh, they look so old-fashioned now."

I followed Arthur in as he set my suitcase down by the dresser near the door. I looked at the books on my shelf and smiled. English classic literature. I checked the toy chest and found my old toys. I had taken the soldiers he made me when I went to live at my place permanently, but here were some jacks, pick-up sticks...for Washington's sake there was a hoop and stick!

I chuckled as I closed the toy chest and went to investigate my closet. My outfits were hanging on hangers, fabric apparently carefully preserved, though stiff and yellowed with age. "God, you used to dress me like this? Heh, I'd forgotten."

And then it occurred to me that I was rushing around the room like a little kid. I blushed and turned back to Arthur. "Sorry, I just...this is actually pretty cool."

Arthur was leaning against the door frame and grinning like ice cream wouldn't melt in his mouth. There was a small sort of satisfaction in the smile that irked me. He thought he was winning. But even as that angry thought crossed my mind the smile itself went directly from my eyes to my pants.

My pants were going to explode. And that would be embarrassing; my button flying off and all the fabric tearing and my cock springing out, wanting his attenti-ARTHUR WAS RIGHT THERE! What the Hell was wrong with me?!

When I got the nerve to look at Arthur again (thank God for my duffel bag) he was blushing and the smile had toned down in scale, if not in quality. Something was so wrong here.

"I'm glad you like it, Am-Alfred. I was a little afraid you'd think I was a sentimental fool." He looked so vulnerable and shy as he said that, not meeting my eyes. And his intentional use of my name was doing more to me than I'd like to admit. "But it isn't precisely how you left it. When you agreed to come stay here, I made sure the bed had fresh sheets. I had them put the antique ones into storage that would preserve them."

"Um...thanks," I said, not knowing what else to say. "I mean, for all of this. This is a pretty cool surprise."

A pleased smile. God save me now. I had to get Arthur out of here before I had a spontaneous orgasm in my pants. From his smile. Sweet Founding Fathers, that would be so humiliating. This whole situation was just too out there to be believed.

"I think I'll take that nap now," I said abruptly. My face had to be bright red, and I prayed he'd be the oblivious fuddy-duddy that he always was and think it was a fever.

"You do look rather hot. I'll come check on you in a couple of hours. If you don't feel better by then, I can bring your lunch here." Arthur nodded to me and smiled once more before he left and closed the door behind him.

I tried to be quiet so he wouldn't hear something and come back, but I dropped the duffle bag and kicked off my shoes and climbed under the sheets and blankets as I opened up my pants. Arthur had left everything else as it was, which meant my door had no lock. If someone was going to walk in, I'd rather they didn't see me blatantly stroking my cock.

But as I smothered under those blankets, breathing heavily as I started to fondle myself (even if this was crazy, I was going to enjoy this, sanity be damned) I groaned as I found that the bedding smelt like Arthur's clothes always did. That made sense but God, why did it have me dripping precum all over? I had flashes of a memory as I started getting closer. Another time I had lain in bed and touched myself with Arthur in mind.

It had been a day or two after he had taken me back to the New World, saying I had grow up and become a good country then left me there. I had been in a rustic bed in a simple log cabin on the frontier, and I was touching myself and whimpering, God, crying a little, and was imagining that Arthur was there, naked, and holding me close to him. I had imagined him touching me all over with those soft, gentle hands.

I abruptly shook and came, driven over the edge by a relatively-innocent fantasy that was centuries old. I whimpered a bit as I did, not quietly, but not loudly either. God, if he came in right now, I didn't know what I would say; I was still stroking myself as I spurted out more.

When I stopped I was trembling like I had just had a seizure or something, violent tremors of aftershock making me gasp a bit. As I panted and my body started to calm itself, I wondered aloud, "What the Hell was that?"

(-)

After I had cleaned up as much as I could, I lay atop the covers in a daze, dread washing through me the more I considered things. Weeks? I couldn't stay here for weeks. Hell, I didn't know if I could stay here tonight. Not after that. I couldn't say/think it enough: This is too weird; there is something horribly wrong going on here.

That memory had come out of nowhere. I had forgotten that night, and the next morning where I felt awkward and lonely and ashamed. 'Arthur was Arthur,' I had reasoned, 'why would he be naked with me?' I eventually reasoned that it was puberty and abandonment issues getting to me at the same time.

I hadn't understood what I had instinctually craved, and I had obviously tried very hard to forget that night, since I had been so successful for all these years. Until now. Now these thought had me feeling awkward, confused, somewhat ashamed, and...intrigued?

My heart started hammering as an uncomfortable but real-feeling conclusion came into my mind. I loved Arthur. Oh, God. I felt panicky and short of breath. This-this wasn't right. When did this happen? I haven't loved Arthur all these years, why do I suddenly love him now?

My brain smacked me with some information I head learned years ago. Sublimation. Channeling unacceptable urges and desires into something more socially acceptable. That was probably one of the things that made me start getting angry with Arthur, I realized with a sick little twist in my stomach. I wasn't okay with loving him, so I put that energy into resenting and rebelling against him.

My independence and patriotism had been my replacement for my love. Stubborn arguing and bickering and fighting with Arthur had replaced my love. God, I felt so stupid now. (Though not about the Revolution. Even with out the added resentment of my sublimation, Arthur hadn't been treating me right, and I'm glad I won my independence.) All these years of pointless conflict when I could have been...what could I have been doing?

Arthur couldn't feel that way about me. It seemed obvious to me now that he still cared about me, but he wanted me to visit so he could remember the time when he was my big brother. So all these years I could have been pining after a guy who loved me as a brother. Maybe it was okay, then, that I had used sublimation to feel anger towards him instead. I could feel now that watching Arthur, being near him, talking to him was going to be a struggle.

"Alfred," Arthur said. I probably jumped pretty high as I floundered in a panic on the bed. God, had he always been that sneaky?

He blinked and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to give you a fright. I just thought I'd check in a little early, see how you were feeling."

I just stared at him as I felt my face rapidly warming and I tried to gather my scattered thoughts enough to speak to him. It wasn't working. I had no idea what to say. What had he just said? I think this "Arthur revelation" had busted something inside my brain.

"I see you're still feeling poorly. Well, I'll go get our lunches, and we can eat in here," Arthur said, and he left before I could give him a reason to leave my poor, confused self alone.

It wasn't long before he returned with two plates on a tray and two tea cups beside them. I sat up as I realized that I had forgotten about Arthur's cooking. People say that _I_ have bad taste; if I do, I swear I got it from him.

The alarm must have shown on my face because Arthur smiled wryly. "Don't worry, I didn't make it."

I smiled sheepishly, and my heart was once again imitating a caged bird. I really needed to be able to form sentences and vocalize them; regaining that skill would be awesome right about now...

"You seem unusually quiet, Alfred. Are you feeling that poorly?"

I shook my head. Get it together, Al, you're the mighty America! You can speak. God, people say you never shut up. So speak, damn it!

"Just kinda spacing out," I managed to say, pleased to see that my vocal cords really hadn't been paralyzed.

"I see." Then Arthur said, "Get into bed," in such a matter-of-fact tone that I immediately wanted to obey him, even as my eyes widened and I lost my ability to speak again.

I opened my mouth a couple of times then closed it. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just get your feet under the covers near the edge so I can put this over your lap and we can eat. Okay?"

I swallowed and nodded, the shock of his words fading now that I knew what they really meant. If I hadn't just had that super-intense orgasm earlier, I probably would have an erection right now. I did as he said, and once the tray was over my lap, Arthur went to get a chair, presumably from his room.

He came back with a light, less-expensive dining chair and set it beside my bed. I was prodding suspiciously at the meat and vegetables covered in brown sauce on my plate. It smelled good, but even if Arthur didn't make it, we _were_ still in England.

"I've hired an Asian chef. I always liked China's food, and Japan's wasn't too bad either," Arthur explained as he watched me playing with my food. "That's some teriyaki stir-fry."

"Oh," I said, feeling relieved. I was still wary as I put a bite in my mouth, though. But it was good. Not British food in any sense of the word. "Pretty good."

That drew another wry smile from Arthur. "How did you survive as a child, having to eat my cooking?"

I grinned at him. "That was just normal to me. You might recall that you often had to wrangle me to get me to come inside and eat dinner. Sometimes I just didn't want to eat that food."

Arthur snorted and a small pout formed on his lips that drew my eye to them. Oh fuck. I quickly added, "Still, you fed me and I grew up well enough, so that's what really matters." Please stop pouting, I'm going to attack you for a chance to nibble on that lip...

Arthur stopped pouting, but I think it was worse when he gave me a warm, fond smile and said, "Heh, I guess it is. You grew up to be bigger and...stronger than me." He seemed hesitant to add the "stronger" and it startled me a bit that he was admitting that. "Of course, even as a small colony you were swinging buffaloes around in the air, so it wasn't the biggest surprise, but still..."

The insecurity in his voice drew a pang from my chest, something sad that made me want to hug him. "Well, every nation has it's strong points. You're classier than me, still. Your government seems a bit more well-coordinated and organized than mine. But we just both have things that make us who we are."

I put more stir-fry in my mouth as Arthur's dropped open a bit at my comment. Then he smiled a small, quiet smile and said, "Maybe I wasn't as much a failure at raising you as I thought I was."

The natural response that drew from me was a scoff, and I felt like some of the tension and the ease of him arousing me lessened. I could focus on him without everything he did turning me on. That was a relief. Of course now I felt a warm, burning coal inside my chest as I looked at him. It was simultaneously comforting and just a bit painful.

"Why would you ever think you raised me wrong? I'm an awesome hero!" I told him.

He frowned at me. "For reasons like that; there will be no Prussia impersonations in this house."

I laughed, and it felt good to let my loud, boisterous laughter leave me unchecked. I felt the ease even more now, and this was more like how Arthur and I were supposed to be. We weren't being mean, but we still bickered and insulted each other. And those smiles. I had forgotten how much I missed his smiles.

(-)

**So, finished the first chapter on a new story (sorry I have the attention span of a dead fish) and we've gotten nowhere near the actual reason Arthur invited Alfred. But it's moving a lot faster than I had planned, with Alfred having that revelation in the first frikkin chapter. Still, hope the long thought monologue didn't turn you off; I figured Alfred would have thoughts flying a mile a minute after he had that little incident. Let me know what you thought about it, if you have time; I enjoyed Alfreds patriotic expressions, but they might be too cheesy for other people. Hope this at least amused you.**


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